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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761791">The Weirdo and The Player</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sennawritesthings/pseuds/sennawritesthings'>sennawritesthings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Like Us Series - Krista Ritchie &amp; Becca Ritchie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:40:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sennawritesthings/pseuds/sennawritesthings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of stories that sometimes connect and sometimes don't about the alien-loving, fic writing, conspiracy theorist and her player, ex-pro-boxer bodyguard.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luna Hale/Quinn Oliveira</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Bring Your Head Down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i posted this particular one on twitter as a flash fiction but i kinda wanted to expand it a little (by two parts) and then BOOM! i came up with this story collection thing 🤩  it'll be updated slowly as my muse comes and goes but hopefully you guys enjoy 🥺 💕</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The water ripples, a small wave of water splashes over me, swaying my floating body gently, and I know that it’s Quinn without having to open my eyes. I know that he’s sitting at the edge of the pool, with only his feet in because he doesn’t want to mess up his hair. It’s a lie he tells everyone because the truth is he doesn’t really know how to swim. Well, at least since he’s afraid of deep water after almost having drowned when he was younger, thanks to a lifeguard letting another kid slide down the water slide without making sure Quinn was out of the way first.</p><p> </p><p>No one else knows that, just me. We keep each other’s secrets. We know each other in a way our families and friends don’t because we’re similar—we both try to be something we’re not. He won’t say that to me, but I see it when his lips quirk in a grin, when he winks at some swooning fan girl, in how much effort he puts into his appearance. It’s a switch he turns on and off. Playboy for them. Quinn for me.</p><p> </p><p>Luna Hale, pro weirdo, space alien crazy conspiracy theorist, daughter of addicts for them. Luna, just Luna, for Quinn. I know him and he knows me. It’s why he somehow always makes his way to me when I need someone the most, even if he doesn’t know it.</p><p> </p><p>Even though my ears are submerged, I can faintly hear him ask, “Where’s Xander?”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t have to ask, he probably already knows since it’s his job to have some idea of where we all are, though I’m his client. But we had another scare with Xander a week ago when our parents came home and he wasn’t around. He left his phone, too. We thought something happened to him since he never leaves the house unless it’s necessary, but he was only visiting his friend. I’ve never seen my parents so scared, so unhinged. Not even when he locked his door and we all thought the worst.</p><p> </p><p>It scared us. What if he had been taken and was being held for ransom or sold off somewhere? What if he left to kill himself where he wouldn’t be caught?</p><p> </p><p>That scared me the most. It made me...</p><p> </p><p>“He’s at his friend’s.”</p><p> </p><p>The rentals—all eight of them—are out for some dinner thing. Moffy and Jane are having a double date. Kinney is with the girl square, having a sleepover at Aunt Willow and Uncle Garrison’s house with their guards acting as chaperones. Akara and Sulli invited me to hang with them, but knowing them, their friendly competition will turn into a heated one, which would end up with them sneaking off for a quick, heated fuck.</p><p> </p><p>Anyway, I just wanted to be alone. But that isn’t quite right. Now that Quinn is here, I just wanted to be alone with Quinn. He doesn’t try to fill the silence the way I do sometimes to buzz out the comments about me. To stop thinking about what I have hidden in my room, and other, smaller places that aren’t easily found.</p><p> </p><p>I open my eyes to count the stars in the sky. I name the constellations, trace their mirrors out with my fingers on the water, make new ones out of them and name them after characters the shapes remind me of. When I finish, I start all over, this time naming them after my family, stuttering a little on my parents.</p><p> </p><p>They say I take the most after my mom. They predict, that because I’m the eldest girl, that because I’m of age, I’ll inherit her sex addict genes. But in reality, I’m most like my dad, I think.</p><p> </p><p>I know.</p><p> </p><p>I choke on my saliva, drowning in my dad’s guilt even though he hasn’t found out yet.</p><p> </p><p>Quinn doesn’t like to get in the water, but he does it anyway. His hands are on my back like he’s singlehandedly keeping me afloat even though I wasn’t <em>literally</em> sinking. Not physically at least.</p><p> </p><p>“Bring your head down, moonwalker.”</p><p> </p><p>I almost want to laugh. It’s what Quinn says to me when I get too lost in my own head or when I forget who I am to please the press. But I don’t. Not tonight. I right myself to wrap my arms around his neck, hide my face in his chest. His arms cage me in, I almost instantly relax into his fully clothed form, letting him carry me back to the edge of the pool where my back meets the edge.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m scared.”</p><p> </p><p>I’m scared because I’m addicted to alcohol, like my dad was. I’m scared because I’m going to break his heart. I’m scared because I think it’s getting worse. I’m scared because it <em>is</em> getting worse.</p><p> </p><p>When Xander went missing, and my parents were freaking, and Kinney was in shock, and Moffy doing his best to keep everyone calm even though he was shaking, I thought, <em>I could really use a bottle of bourbon right now.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>I don’t exactly remember when it started. A couple drinks at a party or at the club. They tasted really good, and for once I didn’t worry about what people were saying. I didn’t care. Then a couple more drinks. And a couple more. Bye bye headlines. Bye bye boys who made me cry because I’m smarter than them, because I’m more passionate about things while they have 2D personalities, <em>because I’m a weirdo</em>.</p><p> </p><p>More drinks, more drinks, more drinks. Not in public, though, because the paparazzi might see. So, five finger discount becomes my best friend for the little travel sized bottles of liquor. Then I was sneaking some into my beverages at family gatherings, sneaking it into the house.</p><p> </p><p>And now, now when things get too hard, when I don’t want to think, when I don’t want to feel, the bottle calls my name. A name I used to love because I was named after Luna Lovegood in public, but really given to me because of my Aunt Rose and Uncle Connor. But I hate it now because it’s, ironically, the name of my favorite alcohol brand, the one that gets me the most numb.</p><p> </p><p>I cling to Quinn tighter. “I’m scared,” I say again.</p><p> </p><p>He won’t ask me for what. He never asks me about what I’m feeling, what I’m thinking until I let it all out, until I let myself think and feel them. It’s always been this way between us, oddly, since when he was first assigned to me we didn’t exactly hit it off that well. We thought we were just too different.</p><p> </p><p>Now Quinn is the only one I want to see this side of me.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know what happens to tears in space?” he asks, his voice weirdly jolly, so I know he’s smiling. It makes me smile because he’s trying to cheer me up.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” I answer. “They don’t fall since there’s no gravity, so they form a ball that eventually breaks away from your eyes and float around if it gets big enough. Otherwise it just stings your eye.”</p><p> </p><p>Quinn tightens his arms around me. He rests his cheek on my head. “Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re not in space, right Luna?”</p><p> </p><p>It’s the final kick to my dam. Ugly bawling wrenches from my body. He strokes my back soothingly. I think he kisses my head, but I could be imagining it. Quinn has never looked at me that way, even though I have.</p><p> </p><p>Right?</p><p> </p><p>This time I do feel his kiss at my temple.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it your parents are always saying when they think no one is listening?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. I don’t even think I can, but it isn’t like he doesn’t know. “We’re in earth-616, yeah? Things get messy. They get really shitty, but it always turns out okay. This will too. I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>Quinn holds me until I stop crying. He holds me, almost crushes me into him, when I tell him about my addiction. He holds my hand while he helps me get rid of the bottles. He holds me while we wait for my parents. He holds my hand when I tell them about my struggles.</p><p> </p><p>He thinks I don’t notice him patting the pocket where he keeps his phone in case he needs to text the other parents to come by for support, but I do and I’ve never been more grateful. I think my parents will need it. I tell him so when my parents take a moment for themselves in their bedroom and he texts them.</p><p> </p><p>He only lets go when I’m wrapped in their arms. When Uncle Ryke is charging through the door with Aunt Daisy on his heels and I’m swallowed up by him and his fucks, almost cursing himself, as if it was his fault that I have an alcohol problem, and Daisy’s comforting hand holds mine. When Aunt Rose and Uncle Connor come in not five minutes later, each pressing a kiss to my head and Rose takes the hand Daisy isn’t holding into hers, gripping tightly as if I’d fly away if she let go. When Connor focuses on my parents.</p><p> </p><p>He only leaves when he’s sure we’ll <em>all</em> be okay. And for the first time in a while, I’m not thinking about how badly I need a drink, how to be the first person to truly discover life on other planets (both a genuine question and one I asked to take my mind off the alcohol), how I’m going to end my ongoing Stucky fic. I’m thinking about how I want him stay, to be here with me.</p><p> </p><p>But I need this right now. I need to do it alone. Like with everything, Quinn just knows that.</p><p> </p><p>I love him for it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’ve been through some shit throughout my life. A near death experience when I was nine. Some bullying when I was thirteen. Training for boxing, then my boxing matches. All the broken bones from said training and matches.</p><p> </p><p>And yet I’ve never <em>in my entire life</em> felt like shitting my pants more than at this very moment, standing just outside the door to Loren Hale’s office.</p><p> </p><p>Being summoned by Loren is one thing when it’s his home—that usually means it’s for Luna. Being summoned by Loren when it’s his office—with the high fucking chance that Connor Cobalt and Ryke Meadows (and probably Moffy) will be there for their boys’ lunch… yeah, that’s business. The business being Luna, still, but he saw us two days ago.</p><p> </p><p>He saw me with her. He watched me hold part of her, even though I really fucking wanted to hold all of her, but I wasn’t what she needed right then. Right then she needed her family. I’m just her bodyguard.</p><p> </p><p>Usually I’m great at reading people. It’s in my blood, having to learn to anticipate when an opponent was getting ready to strike and how, but I couldn’t read Loren’s face that night.</p><p> </p><p>I definitely think I’m shitting my pants.</p><p> </p><p>Wait, no, I just knocked on the door. And Loren tells me to go in.</p><p> </p><p>All I can fucking do is hope that Connor and Ryke aren’t there. I’d be slaughtered under the weight of their questions (Loren and Connor), expectations (Loren and Moffy, if he was in there), and glares probably (Ryke) because, while Luna wasn’t the youngest girl in the family, she was the one who was attacked the most by the media simply because of her parents’ past addictions, so they were a little more protective of her.</p><p> </p><p>I almost breathe a sigh of relief when I enter the room to Loren and only Loren, but the hard look he has on his face makes me think twice… about damn near everything, including my birth. He has his elbows on his desk, his finger rubbing his wedding ring, and if I didn’t know him, didn’t know what he did, I’d think he was a fucking mob boss or something.</p><p>Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.</p><p> </p><p>As I sit in a chair across from the desk, I know I haven’t shitted my pants, which is great. But my balls have definitely shrunk and tucked themselves away in fear. Which isn’t great because I need those.</p><p> </p><p>Loren doesn’t say shit for a while, but I know he’s enjoying making me squirm because I can see his fucking cheeks twitching. They twitch even more when I scowl at him. If he weren’t Luna’s dad, if he wasn’t one of my bosses, I probably would’ve punched him.</p><p> </p><p>He sobers though, rubbing his hand across his face. He settles me with a look that damn near tears my skin to shreds. “How long did you know about it?”</p><p> </p><p>He wants to know if I hid it from him. I would never, even if Luna ended up hating me for giving up her secret.</p><p> </p><p>“A couple hours before you did.”</p><p> </p><p>He thumbs his ring more frantically than before, a cringe overcoming his face before he can stop it. I’ve never been close to Loren—to any of the parents like some of the other bodyguards. But I can’t fucking lie. Seeing him hurt over his daughter’s addiction, knowing she was going through it alone because she’d hidden it behind the mask she wears for everyone, knowing Luna makes that same exact face when she’s upset… It makes me want to hug him. Like I used to do when I was a kid, always hugging those who were closest to me when I noticed they were down.</p><p> </p><p>He’s probably blaming himself. I know I am. I should’ve looked out for her better, should’ve ignored the girls that “bumped” into me to chat when the only girl I would ever want was closer than an arm’s length away. My stomach knotted.</p><p> </p><p>My moonwalker. My Luna.</p><p> </p><p>I should’ve fucking known. She can be a little wild, but there were times when it was overboard. Times where she didn’t feel like Luna anymore, but the shell of what everyone outside the family expects of her. I hated those times more than anything. Her eyes always looked dead. Her smiles and her laughs lacked the fucking beautiful heart she has.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not your fault,” Loren says, cutting through my thoughts. “You didn’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>I shrug. “Neither did you, sir. I can say the same.”</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t it? The addiction is the strongest on my side of the family.” He rubs at his ring again.</p><p> </p><p>“That might be true, but I l-know Luna. I know her. She’s my—” only everything “—friend, but… she’s a smart girl. She makes her own choices.”</p><p> </p><p>He narrows his eyes at me, and it’s not just my balls that have shrunk into my body. Pretty sure my dick receded too. “I would think very fucking carefully about what you’re going to say next.”</p><p> </p><p>“Look, it runs in your family, I get it. But it’s not like you held the bottles to her lips. She did that on her own.”</p><p> </p><p>He continues to glower at me. He doesn’t typically fight with his fists, that’s usually Ryke’s thing—fists firsts, questions later. But he looks like he wants to pommel me to fucking bits. I might be an ex-boxer, but he’d win because no way do I want to hurt Luna by hurting her father, even if it was in self-defense.</p><p> </p><p>“You can’t blame yourself for that shit because ultimately it’s a choice.” Like I chose to stop boxing, despite my family’s misgivings. “She’s smart,” I say again. “Smarter than <em>anyone</em> gives her credit for. You’re her dad, you know that. She knew what she was doing when she picked up that first drink and then continued to pick them up. She told me herself that she knew, even knowing what you went through, what her mom went through. She did it anyway. So it’s not your fault.”</p><p> </p><p>I swear I don’t know how my heart hasn’t stopped, the look he’s giving me would make anyone drop dead, but I continue, “But because of you, she knew when to ask for help. Should it have been a long fucking time ago? Yeah, but at least she asked for help before it could get worse. Because she loves you and it was killing her knowing that she was hurting you even when you didn’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>Loren watches me carefully. He’s shifted so that he’s leaning back in his chair.</p><p> </p><p>“You chose to stop drinking, sir.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods.</p><p> </p><p>“You choose every day to not drink.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods again. Swipes at his ring. “For Lily. For us. For my family.”</p><p> </p><p>“She chose to stop for you. For her family.” And maybe one day, she’ll say for me too, but I won’t get my hopes up. She let me hold her. She let me comfort her, help her clear her safe space of her vices. She let me hold her hand. But anyone can do that.</p><p> </p><p>We’re different people with each other, that much I know. But I also know from experience that it doesn’t mean shit in the long run. And it breaks my fucking heart to know that one day, she could find someone who loves every part of her. Someone else who would want Luna for Luna Hale only, and she would choose him because I’m her bodyguard and friend. That’s it.</p><p> </p><p>As long as she’s happy.</p><p> </p><p>He stands, smoothing out his tie. I don’t know why, but I stand with him. Self-preservation, I think. He’s going to hit me. He’s kind of old. Maybe he won’t run as fast as he used to when he was my age. Fucking forget that he runs with Ryke every morning. I can make a break for it.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s your friend.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s not a question, but it feels like one. I think of last week, when she stole my phone to take a bunch of ridiculous selfies for me to have recorded history of what she looks like in case aliens take over and inhibit her body, so I know the difference between them and her. She might’ve been drunk then, but that’s Luna on any given day, really.</p><p> </p><p>Like I could ever fucking forget what any part of her looks like.</p><p> </p><p>A smile breaks free on my face, thinking about one in particular where she had a green, glitter face mask on. She put her hair into two buns and held up the Vulcan salute, said she was definitely being overtaken by aliens. Again, she could’ve been drunk, but… she could be like that sober, when she wanted to. “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>He’s rounding the desk. “She’s your best friend.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s not a question again. Good thing because I wouldn’t know how to answer it. Luna and I didn’t exactly get along when I was first assigned to her. I thought she was fucking weird, but I was new. Everything I had known about her until that point was from the media. It wasn’t until a quick road trip to one of Tom’s shows that showed me how very fucking wrong my first impression of her was. It wasn’t until another quick trip to one of Eliot’s plays that showed me how much deep shit I was going to get into with her.</p><p> </p><p>Whatever he sees in my face, he must like, because he doesn’t punch me like I would’ve thought. He holds his hand out for a handshake. “You can call me Lo, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>I nod, not entirely trusting him, but I shake his hand anyway. Surprisingly, in the most un-Loren move, he pulls me in for a hug.</p><p> </p><p>Loren Hale is awkwardly bro-hugging me.</p><p> </p><p>Or maybe he’s just about to stab me in the back with a damn letter opener. I don’t know. It’s fucking weird. I haven’t even been hugged by my siblings in a long while. The only hugs I get—the only ones I even want—are from one moonwalker.</p><p> </p><p>Instead of stabbing me, he pats my back and says, “Thank you for being there for her. Thank you for being her best friend.”</p><p> </p><p>He lets me go. Then his eyes turn steely, and his grip on my hand and shoulder tightens enough that I think, <em>this is it. This is where he castrates me and leaves me to die.</em> That’s more Rose territory, but I think Lo would be up to the task.</p><p> </p><p>I haven’t even kissed Luna yet.</p><p> </p><p>“Break her fucking heart, Oliveira, and I promise there’s not a single goddamn bone in your body that my brothers and I wouldn’t shatter.”</p><p> </p><p>“If I ever did that, I’d break my own bones, <em>Lo</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>He nods, fully letting me go, satisfied with my answer. He returns to his side of the desk, and I know I’m dismissed <em>thank fuck</em>. But as I’m walking through the door he says, “Let me know when it’s time for me to invite you to lunch with me and the guys. No one in this family gets away without being vetted by us.”</p><p> </p><p>He throws me a smirk when I blink at him. <em>I’m sorry Luna, but your dad is kind of an asshole. </em>Lo laughs like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.</p><p> </p><p>“You got through me, kid. But you still have a fucking line to get through.”</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t that… Isn’t it too early to be thinking like that? I’m just her bodyguard.”</p><p> </p><p>Lo shakes his head, already turning his attention back to his work. “Let me know, Quinn.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s only when I’m parked outside of the Hale home, seeing Luna waiting for me on the front steps, that I realize <em>holy fucking shit</em>. Loren Hale is Team Quinn Oliveira.</p><p> </p><p>Luna smiles when she sees me and, unlike in Lo’s office, my heart fucking stops. She approaches the car and gets in. Her smile falters a little when she eyes my face. Then she’s frowning.</p><p> </p><p>“How did it go with my dad?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Good. Great. He’s rooting for me. God fucking damn, I want to kiss you, but would you want me to?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Quinn?” She leans over to cradle my face in her hands. The corners of her mouth lift a little, stealing my attention from the prettiest eyes to ever exist and I almost really do kiss her. “Look up, unified champion.”</p><p> </p><p>I can’t help grinning. She’d looked up my stats once like I have to look up some of the shit she talks about just to understand her the things that make her eyes light up. <em>Look up, unified champion. Look at the moon. Look at me.</em></p><p> </p><p>I’m always fucking looking at her.</p><p> </p><p>I don’t stop myself. I grab her cheeks like she holds mine and I kiss her nose, press my forehead to hers and rub our noses together lightly. She flushes. <em>I want to fucking kiss you.</em> Her lips are right fucking there. Her breath fans across my face and I can tell she’s been eating Pop-Tarts.</p><p> </p><p>“It went great.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiles. “Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. I’m still alive, right?”</p><p> </p><p>She nods emphatically, and I let her go. She puts on her seatbelt.</p><p> </p><p>“Therapy?”</p><p> </p><p>Luna nods, pausing for a moment before she slips her hand into mine. I don’t even care that I need it to switch gears. I’m not letting go until she walks into her new therapist’s office.</p><p> </p><p>“Therapy,” she says, squeezing my hand.</p>
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